


don’t take it easy

by orphan_account



Category: Black Panther (2018), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: M/M, Making Out, uhmmmm idk what’s happening rly
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-05
Updated: 2017-12-05
Packaged: 2019-02-10 22:16:58
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 367
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12921351
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: “You can not tell me what to do,” T’Challa says finally, striding towards Erik until they’re so close that if T’Challa merely tilted forward, he could press their mouths together, “I am the king.”





	don’t take it easy

**Author's Note:**

> wow hm i just really love them :)

“You’re awfully pretty to be a king,” Erik says, voice soft and low, the corner of his mouth turned up in a nasty sneer.

T’Challa tears his gaze away, heartbeat speeding up ever so slightly. It’s wrong, he knows. Being here, in Erik’s chambers alone and at night, sheltered by the darkness. He doesn’t know what he came here for exactly, doesn’t know what he’s looking for and Erik seems to realize this.

“Why are you here, your majesty?” His voice is mocking and his eyes are sharp and T’Challa begins to see the extent of his mistake.

But it’s too late to turn around, it’s too late to leave now.

“You should go,” Erik turns slightly and motions lazily to the door.

“You can not tell me what to do,” T’Challa says finally, striding towards Erik until they’re so close that if T’Challa merely tilted forward, he could press their mouths together, “I am the king.”

And Erik laughs crudely, a rough but not entirely unwelcome sound, as he slides a hand over the nape of T’Challa’s neck and pulls him into a bruising kiss.

Erik kisses like he fights, hard and fast and messy. T’Challa pushes him against the wall, relishing in the sound of Erik’s groan when his back hits the wall. He can feel the bitter sting of Erik’s teeth sinking into his bottom lip, tongue slipping past T’Challa’s teeth and against the roof of his mouth. He grabs Erik’s free hand, fingers sliding over his wrist in an almost bruising hold.

Heat pools in the pit of his stomach when Erik’s nails scrape against the sensitive skin on T’Challa’s neck; he growls and then pushes Erik farther against the wall, crowding him there until they’re chest to chest. Erik’s body is warm and hard and firm against his own; T’Challa can feel the steady beat of Erik’s heart against his own.

They pull apart after a moment and Erik shifts, tilting his head back, offering T’Challa a sharp smile.

“Bed, now.” T’Challa breathes and then lets go of Erik.

He watches as Erik slowly moves towards the bed, turning back barely to glance at T’Challa through half lidded eyes, “yes, your majesty.”


End file.
